


and they were happy

by coffeefee



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Fluff, Ghost TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, I hope, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minecraft, Other, Ranboo is a honary member, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sleepy Bois Inc Fluff, Sleepy Bois Inc-centric, Sleepy Boys, actually i need a beta my grammar sucks, i think, might add more characters later, no beta we die like men, philza is a good dad, pre doomsday arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29737569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeefee/pseuds/coffeefee
Summary: When Tommy goes missing in his exile, the SMP panics. Search parties were sent out and Tubbo is hurting.Meanwhile, at Technoblade's place, a broken family starts to heal.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1: A Lot More Snow Than Usual

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :D  
> Just something self indulgent I never really finished jhfjdk

Chapter 1: A Lot More Snow Than Usual

“It’s okay Tubbo. We’ll – we…. we’ll find him in no time, alright?”

The boy addressed sits down with his head in his hands and groaned. Ranboo stood nearby awkwardly, hand extended to rub his back as a form of reassurance.

The president’s office was cold and quiet save for the occasional Enderman squawk and the president him self’s crying. Paper was thrown in a hazard manner across the floor and lying amidst it was a single compass needle. The corkboard that hasn’t been used since the Independence of L’manberg was covered with papers with chicken scrawls on them. Red pins and thread linked the pages together but by the looks of how everywhere it just was, one could speculate it was just there for show and didn’t actually make sense.

In the middle were two pictures. One of Tubbo and Tommy at the bench before all the conflict on the server started, smiling widely at the camera and brandishing Tommy’s disks. The other picture was of the original L’manberg, Eret included. They were grinning despite the eye bags that shown on their faces, proudly standing with their chests puffed out as Wilbur signed the Declaration.

Tubbo glances up at the pictures from the gaps of his hands and his throat caught painfully once more.

Tommy wasn’t anywhere to be found.

At first, there was fairly little to no panic. They all thought he had gone about somewhere, wandering aimlessly in his exile. He hasn’t logged off as far as any of them were aware and has been online for a fairly long time now. But then Dream sent out search parties and people started getting antsy because hours had turned into days since Tommy was last seen and had last logged off. Some thought he had died considering how… how Tommy it would be, but with each passing second it seems unlikely. The masked man had been shaking all day, fist clenched by his sides as he shouted orders with an off aura around him. He had been that way since he had returned from visiting Tommy. They speculated that he had done something stupid again to anger him and frankly weren’t all that surprised. They couldn’t help but feel fear for the exiled teenager, though.

Dream is a force you don’t want to have working against you.

_*I hc that logging off is sort of like disconnection from reality- to enter a limbo of sorts instead of the actual logging off and out of the game. Kind of like entering another pocket dimension. It is, however, different to the inbetween._

Tubbo was not allowed to go and help the search parties in their quest to find his missing friend, not that he would be much help without the compass either way. The single needle that remained from the Ghostbur’s gift for him filled him with endless guilt every time it comes to mind. Did Tommy still consider him a friend? After what he had done to him? He had exiled him out of his own home. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the blonde refused to look him in the eye when he is allowed back. After all, he hasn’t been visiting him in exile (outright), hasn’t said hi, and hadn’t done the duty of a friend. He wasn’t even allowed back for Christmas. He hasn’t been home in years.

Tommy’s exile lasted longer than anyone expected. People had expected Tubbo to beg and plead Dream to let his friend back and _god_ he did but the masked man never budged. Tubbo had tried to sneak out to bring him back once and almost lost his last life. He stayed out of the man’s way after that.

And so, four painful years passed since Tommy’s trial had ended and the young boy was cast from his home and nation that he fought tooth and nail for. Tubbo had had people come to him, asking about Tommy, where is Tommy, how is Tommy, when will Tommy be back-

They all leave his office disappointed and angry.

L’manberg and SMP hasn’t been on good terms since. Surprisingly, however, some of the SMP sympathized with his nation. They agreed that Dream may have been too harsh with the exile and said they’d talk to him. It did nothing as expected. But it was for his nation, right? Tommy was being selfish and reckless- he can’t jeopardize L’manburg like that! He was putting his nation on the line and so he- And so he… He chose to exile Tommy.

The last time Tubbo had seen him was when he was permitted to return to SMP for an hour under Dream’s (or Drista’s- he wasn’t quite sure and was rather confused by the chaos) permission and the blonde was staring at him strangely. Looked at him like he was a ghost. Neither of them exchanged any words when Tubbo handed him a slice of melon with a smile. His palms were sweating more than it probably should. The scuffed up blonde’s face didn’t change as he gingerly held the watermelon and nibbled at the ends. It was almost as if he didn’t quite recognize him! But Tubbo did and always will recognize his friend.

Even so, Tommy’s eyes had lost its shine. He looked so frail and his clothes were torn and tattered. He was limping slightly and seemed to be trying his best to not focus on Tubbo. It hurt, but he pretend not to notice and just quietly followed him around. He was banned into his pocket dimension several minutes later and shrugged it off as Drista being Drista.

And now… his friend has gone missing.

“Ranboo,” Tubbo mumbles,” oh, Ranboo, what have I done?”

The Enderman hybrid does not answer.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean Tommy is gone?” Ghostbur was far, far from distressed. He seemed confused, and more so lost. Philza groans and turns to the ghost as he flops onto a chair, smile strained.

“Ghostbur,” he begins for the umpteenth time,” Tommy is missing- has been for a day or two. We don’t know where he is and the whole SMP is looking for him.”

“But… I saw Tommy!” the ghost huffs out, eyebrows furrowed as he stopped afloat in the middle of the room. Ghostbur… had seen Tommy? Phil’s hands shook slightly and he gripped at his robe while his student breathes heavily through his nose from besides him. They stare at the ghost with wide eyes and he stares back with his own. “I saw him”, he continues after seeing their faces,” just a few hours ago I’d say! He looked really pale- like, ME pale!” he exclaims, doing a little spin as he does to emphasize the ‘ME’. Not that you can really tell how pale a dead person who was 68% transparent could be, but the point stands.

The house was quiet and filled with underlying tension, as usual, but the desperation it held was new. When neither of the two men replied, the ghost continues. “He seemed to be running away from something! I do wonder what he is doing out of Logstedshire…” He taps a finger to his cheek thoughtfully and pouts. The silence continues to stretch on. Phil startles and shoots up from his seat. His mind raced with the thought of finding Tommy and possibly helping him before Dream’s search parties get to him first. “Wi- Ghostbur, where did you see Tommy?”

Ghostbur hums and shakes his head in thought as he replies, voice echoing around the small room. “To… the west I’d say. I-I’m not really sure.”

As much as the lack of information annoys him, he doesn’t get mad. As self-destructive Ghostbur can be he knows to look after himself and got out of the snow before he could melt completely. Chair scrapes lightly against wooden floors as the two member of the Arctic Empire make way for the door. They’ll need to grab some ingredients along the way just in case they need to make healing potions. Ghostbur mentioned something about how Tommy looked like he was running from something and gods forbid the child is freezing to death. The boy is most likely to have lost his arm to frostbite go without a day without committing arson when he thinks no one is watching.

Ghostbur watches them idly as the approached the heavy door when the house elapses into morbid silence. Someone had gotten to the door before they did.

The door shook slightly with light and uneven knocks. Techno’s hand was inches away from the door knob which began to rattle faster and faster the longer they remained silent. A low snarl like rumble came from behind the door; as if the person was annoyed by the lack of answer. Nobody knew where Techno lives. The piglin hybrid glances back towards the two and they stared back, equally alarmed. The last time he had unexpected visitors, Techno was dragged to his own execution. The split second of agony as his body crumples under the anvil before he was stitched back together piece by piece by the totem haunts his nightmares. Not that he could ever admit it, of course, but his twin and their teacher were observant.

Philza draws his blade carefully as to not knock anything over and Ghostbur picks up a gapple clumsily. Techno, hand still outstretched, reaches for his crossbow that idly hung at his belt. The voices, once peaceful and solemn, began to roar. Anticipation pricks at his fingers and he huffs as he gripped the handle and threw the door open. In quick succession, he raises his crossbow and bright colours filled the clearing around his house. The distorted voices scream at the loud bang, adrenaline evident in the chorus of cheers. He pushed down the ‘Blood for the Blood God’ chants and blinked the lights from his eyes. Both him and Phil rushes out into the torrent of snow, yelling. The ringing dies down and the last of the firework blast begins to disappear. To their surprise, there was no dead body.

They remain tense, weapon still drawn as they turn to scan the dimly lit area.

Not a mob.

Not an animal.

Not a single soul.

“Is it safe?” Ghostbur whisper yells from inside, pale transparent eyes wide as he peeks through the doorway. Neither of them answered, too focused on searching the vicinity. The bees’ buzzing had quietened down to a soft hum. A low neigh sounded somewhere from Carl’s shed. Snow crunched softly under the two’s feet as they circled the house, neck painfully strained. There were no footprint in the white slush and that doesn’t settle well with either of them. Someone was clearly here, but where did they-

“What are you guys looking for?”

With a barely concealed wince as the voices erupted in both of the Arctic Empire member’s mind, the two turned around, weapons drawn and eyes blazing (they didn’t hear anything, how did they not hear anything?!) when their limbs locked.

There was a lot more snow than usual, the men idly noted, as they stared into the pale clouded eyes of Phil’s youngest son.


	2. Chapter 2: Tommy's Best Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My exam is in like two weeks yo

Tommy was pale, like Ghostbur had said. What Ghostbur didn’t say was how the teenager was levitating a good inch off the ground.

Phil falters, his eyes wide. He stared blankly at the transparent figure that was his son, mind whirling. “Tommy?” he breathes, dropping his netherite sword into the snow with a muffled thump.

This has to be a dream. This can’t be real.

Had he somehow lost another son?

His hands were heavy. It was shaking so badly he had to clasp them together to stop it.

“Yeah, dickhead, it’s me. What are you so goggly-eyed for?” The blond grumbled, crossing his arms as he rolls his eyes. He suddenly blinks, as if just registering who was standing next to his teary eyed father. His mouth drops and he lunges forward. “Technoblade, my man!” he yells boisterously. The piglin hybrid in question flinches and grips his crossbow, drawing it back in reflex. ‘Chat’ screeches at the back of his mind.

How could he yell his name so excitedly like that? After all that he had done to him and his home?

Something dark contorted in Tommy’s face for a split second before he snorts. “Woah- hey! No need for that, big man!” He laughs, waving his arm around spastically. It was only then did Phil and Techno realize the amount of bruises and blackened skin that littered around said arms. The blackened skin was frostbite, no doubt, but where were the bruises from? More and more questions were just added to the list.

They lapsed into uncomfortable silence after that, neither too brave to move.

“Why don’t we head inside, heh?” Techno blurts out, clearing his throat afterwards. “Its getting pretty cold.”

Tommy perks up and hollered excitedly before turning tail, shooting across the area and into the house with surprising speed. The voice of a startled Ghostbur prompted the rest of the house’s occupants back from their trance and they hastily followed.

Phil’s sword lays forgotten behind them.

* * *

Everything was surprisingly normal and calm. Phil was still shaky from the revelation that his son had died, but made a show of cracking obscure jokes like normal. On occasions, Techno would see his eyes redden but quick blinks solved it rather quickly.

It wasn’t long before they realized that they had no idea where Tommy’s body was or why he was out of his exile-home in the first place or why he seems to not remember anything at all about everything bad each of them had done to him.

He doesn’t seem to remember Techno summoning three Withers in the heart of the nation he fought for when he was 10. He doesn’t remember the tale of Theseus or how the piglin hybrid had yelled at him to die a hero as his country went up in flames nor does he remember him shooting his best friend in the chest with a firework.

He doesn’t remember Phil driving a diamond sword straight into the chest of his brother who later became a ghost void of all bad memories. He doesn’t remember how the elytrian had blankly stared at him without a trace of pity as he was dragged through the portal after his trial by Dream at 12.

He doesn’t remember Wilbur chipping away at his mind when he was 9, filling it with thoughts a kid shouldn’t have, doesn’t remember the man blowing up his country. He certainly doesn’t remember much about Ghostbur, the phantom of his brother, either.

Maybe it was a ghost thing.

Either way, Tommy Watson was now dead at 16 and nobody knew how to react. Maybe this was denial or shock.

They were in Techno’s living room, playing monopoly on a rather scuffed up board that hasn’t seen light in years, tensely glancing around and averting eyes quickly when Tommy thinks that they’re staring.

The first thing that Tommy did when he barged into the house was reach into a chest and, while ignoring Techno’s indignant ‘hah?!’ took a generous bite out of a golden apple, practically vibrating with the amount of healing properties the fruit held. It was unsure why he did it seeing as he was… well, dead (not that he seems to be acknowledging it at all).

That was another thing to confront. Tommy does not seem to know that he is dead. He reached for objects like normal without hesitation as if sure that it would not phase through his fingers no matter what. He kept stealing from the stash golden apples and biting into them while maintaining eye contact with a distressed Techno as if he was sure that he could digest it like a normal person would.

Ghosts don’t need to eat nor do they need healing of any sorts and here they were, watching the blond devour apple by apple every now and then.

“Say, Tommy! What are you doing out of Logstedshire?” Ghostbur, bright (and daft) as ever, chirps as he fumbles around with some blue.

A confused frown adorned the said boy’s face as he threw the dices across the table. “Logstedshire? What’s that?”

The dices add up to 7. A crow’s call echoed from the forest behind them.

Phil, Ghostbur and Techno stared at him as he moved his piece (a circle cardboard cutout because that was just so Tommy of Tommy) across 7 steps and bought a property with a whoop.

When he glances up again, he narrowed his eyes. “What are you looking at?!” he yells, annoyed as his shoulders rose.

“Logstedshire! You know, the little community you made in exile,” Ghostbur said, rubbing his blue hands on his yellow sweater.

Tommy recoils scrunching up his nose in distaste. “What? What kind of stupid name is that?! Why would I be exiled?” He sighs and pats Ghostbur’s shoulder after a moment of silence. “Ghostbur, this is why you don’t marry. Marrying drove Phil mad and its starting to get to you, pal.”

Ignoring whatever nonsense his son just said, Phil reaches out a hand uncertainly. “Tommy… just what do you remember?”

“What is that supposed to mean? I’m not old like you, Phil!” He sasses as he swings his free hand around in the air, leaning back and clumsily grabbed another apple. Before anyone could speak he continued. “My memory is just fine. Head clear as day. Know what?! I probably remember more than you lot!”

He continued rambling, childishly lowering his tone to sound wiser and pretends to stare into the distance. “I remember moving to the SMP with Alivebur! We started a drug van there!”

At the mention of the cursed drug van that started a series of unfortunate and traumatic event, the house occupants cringed. Tommy doesn’t seem to notice, however, too lost in his monologue. "I remember Gogy and the Community House! Gogy’s so annoying,” he snorted at the thought of the man who absolutely hated the nickname given to him. “Colorblind and British, pick a struggle. Let’s see… I remember me disks! Dream tried to take it; he was a wrongin’.” He started grumbling about the man under his breath, profanities occasionally joining the mix of words.

Leaving him to his devices a bit, the rest of the people there started spamming messages at each other through their communicator from under the table. Ghostbur was given one in case he got stuck in the storm.

Techno: Death does not suit him.

Techno: Like, have you seen him Phil?! Hah?! He stole all my gapples!

Phil: i know mate

Phil: what do you think hppend to him

Phil: happened

Ghostbur: I don’t get whats so bad though

Techno: What do you mean???? How is this not bad??

Ghostbur: well, theres nothing wrong with Tommy being dead! Hes still here isnt he?

Phil: .

Ghostbur: I cant imagine how Dream must feel though..

Phil: what does dre has to do with this

Ghostbur: They were really close and he visits him in Logstedshire really often!

Well, Phil and Techno was sure that was not a good sign. Dream involved anywhere was not a good sign.

Ghostbur: They were really close! He visits Tommy since he got exiled or whatever! They talk lots

Ghostbur: I dont think Tommy had ever had a better friend!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah idk what im doingjf

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if i will even write a chapter two word doc go brrrrrrrr


End file.
